Hardships of romance
by Xitaris
Summary: a drabble I came up with, first try at soul/maka, in which soul is a pile of useless, and maka a pile of unknowing; what could be a better match? - changed title.
1. Miserable emo dude

**A/N: well just a drabble on a stupid depressing day; i'd say enjoy but .. it's so miserable all together i doubt it will turn your mood to happy, but you're allowed to try, do review and tell me what the feck i should do with this drabble, continue it, i do have some sort of a plot, not really thick. so if i do make it into a story it'll be about 5 - 10 chapters maximum i guess.  
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**so R&R, it won't kill you i promise! **

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Right now, I am confused. Confused because everything I thought I knew, fell apart right in front of me. Do you ever get that feeling as well? No? hmm, then it might really just be me.

I am 19 years old, you'd think that's the age when you get some sort of enlightening moment where suddenly the world makes perfect sense. Well, that doesn't really happen, if anything the world get's even more confusing. Maybe it's because as you grow older you grow less ignorant – I'm still not sure whether this is a good , or a bad thing. As a kid, you don't think about anything, you just don't know why someone does what someone does, and then you ask. And in all those years of youth you keep asking, why this, why that.

And you gain knowledge.

And you gain logic.

And you realize, knowing why, .. doesn't make anything different, it makes you just realize what it is you see.

Right now, I am criticizing. I'm hating the world and what it has become. My parents used to tell me what they did in their youth, what their parent did in theirs. As I think about it, wouldn't it have been more peaceful in that time? Before major issues like pollution or global warming were just thrown into the daily news as if they'd mention how the coffee tastes.

Before all the creativity was sucked out of us, with stupid phones and computers. I can count all my friends on one hand. Of course this is not because I'm emo, but because I simply don't need any more friends.

That was a lie. I just don't know any more people. Heck half of my so called friends are more rivals then anything.

Right now, I am sad. I remember that one of those few people which I can count on the five miserable fingers of my left hand, is Maka. And Maka is.. no, was.

I am sitting in this rotten cough staring at the ceiling because of her. Why, because for once I asked this girl to simply tell her feelings – wrong move – and she did. We were together for almost a year – longest relationship I ever had – but when i asked her whether she truly loved me, she just bluntly answered; 'no'.

I don't think my brain has quite understood the situation though, nor does the rest of my body but that doesn't really matter. Have I been dumped? Well she didn't say that but .. If you don't love someone, why would you stay together.. why were we even together in the first place?

Right, I remember. I kinda stalked her everywhere she went.

Well it worked. I'm proud.

It's not until the sun flares in my face I realize it's already morning – well past morning really, seeing how the arrows of the old clock point to nine. Yes.. nine a.m. is after morning, at least to me it is.

Yes I've heard it so many times, I'm lazy and a good for nothing slacker. But don't take that title away just because I don't sleep at least 12 hours a day. Don't blame someone for having insomnia.

Maka helps me .. helped me with that. Guess it would be appropriate to talk about her in the past tense since she stopped coming over to see me three days ago. Her heartbeat always calmed me down when the rain couldn't.

Perhaps I'm just over thinking this, as usual. Maka always said I did over think things too much. I'm not a man of many words, and If I do use many words, I don't particularly use the right ones. And maka has never been very honest. Maybe she didn't mean it? Yeah, probably.

No, no she definetly meant it.

URGH

I let out a loud groan and get startled as my nearly empty apartment throws it right back at me. The echo's go on for what seems like eternity. How am I supposed to function when my mind's a big mess of miserably thoughts. I'm just so lost without her, can I really do nothing at all by myself?

This is just a no-win situation .. but then in the mind. If I think she didn't mean it, I look like a desperate guy clinging to a girl, so not cool. If she did mean it, then I just got dumped and I have every right to be a miserable pile of manliness – pathetic excuse for a man, I mean – on this weird couch. Which is also not very cool.

Either way, I end up.. so not cool.

I never really believed black star when he mentioned that a girl had to be the most powerful thing to grace the earth, but I now know what he mean. Damn her, making me into this weird pathetic whining whimp.

While falling asleep on the already mentioned couch, the loud door bell ringing throughout the already mentioned apartment is one of the last things I expect to give me a headache – which will no doubt stay 'till the end of the weekend.

Nor do I expect to find the girl that made me the mentioned miserable pathetic pile of stupidity right in front of my door.

Nor do I expect her to be really there, therefore her saying anything slaps me straight back into reality.

"can we talk?"

And for once in my life, I feel like I don't have a choice. And for once, something greater than plain fear settles heavily in my chest.

She takes my silence as a 'yes' and makes her way inside.

This silence, isn't what we normally had between us. This silence was slowly suffocating me. This silence was making me dizzy. Or maybe that was the lack of sleep.

Maybe I was also the only one that thought this silence was nerve wrecking. Maka disappeared from my sight to enter the living room. All I could do was simply stare at the empty hallway and rub my sweaty hand off on my jeans.

I didn't hear the door close, I didn't register my legs moving as I neared the living area, and I certainly didn't expect Maka to be crying.


	2. Hopeless romantic dude

**AN: okay, on request of like only one person (i didn't want to dissapoint, one person is still more then none :3) so EvilInsideAndOut regard this chapter as a dedication to you XD anyway before you continue to read i'd like to tell everyone that may come across this chapter that the updating dates will be on my profile - under the updates section, aswell as postponed chapters, new stories and so on and on~ so do go check that out if you're curious! **

**in advance, thanks for reading, this chapter contains less depressiveness xD**

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Not even once in our entire past relationship, I had ever seen her cry. Well once when she was cutting up onions – damn devilish vegetables, are those even allowed to exist? But that's so much besides the point that it seems incredibly stupid for me to even recall that moment, even if it was the cutest thing ever.

She doesn't make a sound – a silent sobber is what she is. It looks like a tsunami is happening and I conclude that staying in the very comfy door opening, is the best thing to do. Safety first.

She sits in front of the couch and keeps her hand tightly over her mouth, the tears keep coming and I wonder if it will ever stop. Don't look at me like I'm horrible for wishing that she'd just stop crying, crying girls make my instincts kick in.

And my instincts include run, hide and .. flee.

I absent mindedly scratch my head and sigh. Maka hears and look up of the corners of her eyes curiously. She moves her head in a way to motion me closer.

Every fiber in my body says I shouldn't, women are dangerous as hell, but somehow I want to be closer. Three long miserable days of makalessness has put a strain on me. Yeah I admit I'm pathetic and I can't do anything without her, right now I just don't care. She's right over there.

Merely two feet away, and she wants me, asks me, to come to her.

And I will.

So I do.

Something still tugs at my chest but I intend to ignore it. As I let myself slide down next to her another sob breaks through her harsh wall of hands. We don't say anything, she doesn't need to. I understand.

She didn't mean it that way, she's sorry – so am I.

Her head leans on my arm and I can feel a wet stain beginning to form. But thinking about how I will need to get another shirt soon, is the last thing on my mind. The first thing is thinking about how I can get this girl to really talk with me. These misunderstandings cannot keep happening, and I brace myself for the truth. I will need to brace myself and except what she offers.

"maka, I am sure that what you said wasn't entirely a lie." My voice sounds awfully distant and I decide that this isn't the voice I wanted to have, I sound emotionless and deprived of anything that would count as living. Maybe that's what I look like as well, I wouldn't know, I hated mirrors – don't look at me, horror movies always leave me scared of something.

She only cocks her head to look at me, she's confused but at the same time she looks guilt, as if she just got caught eating a candy she wasn't supposed to have in the first place.

"I'm sorry .. " it's quiet and I almost miss it. Sorry about what? Is this the real break up talk? I should've prepared myself some more, she could've warned me, she should've texted me saying that I should mentally prepare. Then again asking someone to be prepared is kinda stupid, and I doubt if I would have been prepared, that I had the courage to even let her in.

This is all so very confusing! Is this how relationships are, 'cause if the answer is yes I might as well just have accepted Blair's frequent booty visits. I had to say, big tits weren't my thing. Black star said they're more fun, but I thought completely otherwise.

No no, me and maka never went that far, I'll be damned if I will never have the chance. If she is breaking up with me, I'll spend my days from now on as a lonely virgin, sounds legit. I doubt I'll ever find anyone remotely as satisfying as maka – no not in that way, perv.

Of course thinking about all of this is hurting my brain, since immediately after the happy moments flash before my eyes, sudden flashes of moments in which maka is crying come to my mind, her face covered in watery lines, her eyes looking angry and sad, her mouth screaming but no words come out. Will it be like that?

Would our relationship die and remain only that of enemies, would we come to hate each other? There's a sudden stab in my stomach but as I look down I notice it's my own body playing tricks on me.

I notice maka staring at me, and I'm reminded of my own vision. Her face is tainted with wet lines and the area around her eyes are red, making her surprisingly unattractive.

"maka.. do you?" I know my question didn't make any sense, but I want to ask her again, I can't just believe that all the times together were a lie, how dare she have smiled like that at me if she never meant it. I'm start to get angry at her, did she use me? Am I just a toy who she can waste her time with? I grit my teeth in frustration and hear them quietly moan underneath the pressure.

"do I .. what? If you mean to ask that I really regret saying that to you, then yes I do regret it." There's a pause, I don't start talking because I can sense there was more she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry for giving such a blunt answer.. to be frank the real answer would have been, 'I don't know', but that would have been more confusing, no?" she has a point but, did that mean there can still be hope? If she doesn't know then I feel as if it's my job to make her realize her feelings, isn't it?

How can you be confused about something like that anyway..? I guess it's just another feminine thing which I will never get, not even if I became a transsexual..

I still don't say anything, until I realize that the silence was once again suffocating, only this time it seems it takes maka along as well. I turn my head to once again glance into her eyes, she looks devastated, and I am sure it is the same look that's on my face.

I grasp the little hope she gives me and cling to it.

"but you do feel something for me don't you…" I don't dare put it in a question so I make it sound like it was statement, I surprise myself. I sound so sure of what I just said, I almost believe my own words.

"I care."

And that was all I need to hear, that at least I do have a place in her heart, and at this point, it's more than enough. She isn't dumping me.

"I don't want to lose you.. I care about you more than anyone else."

It's hard, trying to not let a grin appear on my face. It is a struggle that I lose and in the end I look like a smiling idiot who had gotten a compliment. Which is what had happened anyway.

My heart thumped at my next thought, "let's start over. This time, I'll make you fall in love with me for sure, and you will regret having doubted.. this, us."

It sounds so amazing that for a minute I believe I'll wake up from a dream. Maka regains a light in her eyes and it makes my heart swell with proud. This is my Maka. My girl.

I make a silent promise to not ever loosen my grip on her once I can fully hold her. The wet spot on my shirt is now clinging to my skin and it's becoming quite uncomfortable. Still, I don't make any movement to show that I want to get up – to change my shirt.

I like it now. Here, on the floor, with maka right next to me.

My body tingles and I have a sudden revelation; this is how it used to feel, this is how it was supposed to be. I stare at the light beige walls and start thinking of this. What would change our newly found relationship from the one we had before? Should I act differently?

Maka turns a bit and sighs, it's only then, that I realize she's fast asleep. Her eye are still a bit swollen, but a lot less red. A small content smile is spread from one ear to the other. It's infectious, and I end up smiling as well. I might look like a girl right now, but I don't give the slightest fuck about it.

Her hair tickles the side of my neck, it used to annoy me but now I only find comfort in it. Tomorrow – I decide – I will ask her to move back in. not that she officially left, all her stuff is still in her room and most of her things rule the kitchen, but the things she more often uses had suddenly left, leaving behind a gaping hole in my existence.

Without her I'm just 'Soul', good old wanna-be-cool soul. With her I'm maka's soul – and you have to admit it gives a whole lot more meaning. When I think of that, I pray to tell my mother she gave me the coolest name ever.

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**AN: yes i do realise these chapters are short, i plan to update weekly, probably on sundays :3 (like today yuuy) also, please do take a minute of your precious time to review, it doesn't have to be long but do tell me your opinions on this, i know that every author probably sasy this, but since i came to write a bit myself it is true, not knowing what the readers are thinking (and only alerting the stories) is making me SOOOOOOOO nervous Dx and nervousness eats my brain °_°**

**so pretty please? R&R thank you!**


	3. trustless suspicious dude

**AN: wow this has got out of hand, this chapter had been finished saterday but things came up, so first off; i apolegize to each and everyone of you TT^TT **

**also has anyone ever seen hotel rwanda? the movie? don't watch it, it'll make you cry especially if you are sensetive to children xDD ok moving on i'll just leave and let you read now; sorry again ;A;**

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Another whiff of the lovely odor makes him open his eyes. He's greeted by a dancing silhouette and he likes it, because said silhouette has two asymmetrical out-of-bed pigtails. He can't help but finding it the cutest thing ever.

Only after watching her for a good minute or so he realizes what the banging in his head was. When Maka came over he forgot all about his sleepless night – which he had accompanied by about 5 beers. Now don't think he's uncool and can't hold his liquor, he's cool and can't hold his liquor, there's a difference.

Soul isn't the type to get drunk, he's convinced that if you get drunk you end up doing drunk sex with nameless girls, and that is just not cool at all, nor is it in line with his principles.

He tries to not mind the banging of his brain that seems be some sort of swelling. Maybe the sight of Maka in an apron had just been too much for his precious eyes to bare and he's now experiencing some sort of rejection to the view. Or maybe it's an acceptation of a sort. Either way, it's unusual and it scares him.

As she turns around and says the pancakes are ready, she gives him the brightest smile that has ever graced her lips. He's a bit taken back but regains his composure almost immediately.

"yeah.." it sounds as lame as he feels. She doesn't say anything but goes to set the pancakes – devilish things – on the table. They don't look poisoned, and he wonders why that's the first thing that enters his mind.

Right, smiling Maka – do not trust. And he knows why, trust him on that.

When he's seated all she does is stare, while still having a kind smile – which is now more than just unsettling. He looks her in the eye as he takes one very suspicious pancake and places it on his plate. He's sure he has a sweating forehead, but hey, this is tense!

He adds sugar – the dark kind – and continues to roll up the innocent pancake.

"don't you wanna eat any.." he's sure more sweat forms and there's absolutely no way of hiding it.

"relax soul, I won't do anything to hurt you, you know that. God, you are such a pessimist. You can trust me." Her voice sounds sweet - too sweet. He's scared now, and it's uncool.

But right now his lack of coolness isn't his first priority. He glares at the pancake and wonders if he should believe her sugar coated words. Well it's not as if she had ever tried to poi- never mind, he just remembered that she did make him eat something he was allergic to.

Alright, maybe she didn't realize he's allergic to garlic at the time, but after almost a good 3 months of dating, you would've thought she knew by then. Either way it is far in the past, but so nervously fresh in his mind.

He decides that if he was willing to risk dating this cold slash scary person, he might as well accept one stupid pancake. If he dies, it was just sooner than expected, if he doesn't.. well he'll live to tell the tale of eating a pancake made by a maka in apron.

He slices a bit, and the time it takes to direct the fork with the hanging piece of pancakeness to his mouth and to chew it to little bits and pieces, must surely be longer than the time he has lived up until now.

He chews and chews and chews a few times more and finally decides to swallow. After just being blank for five minutes .. he's still alive. Maka is now also eating her pancake but looks at him with questioning eyes. Did she perhaps ask him something while he was pondering what he should think about in his last moments of life? Or was he seeing too much in her eyes again, as usual.

He concludes that the pancake is safe. Maka is allowing him to live another day. This is why this relationship never was truly healthy. He couldn't be sure whether she hated him or loved him. Maybe she does neither. Maybe she does both?

He doesn't know, and he silently reminds himself that he will make him know, along with maka. He'll make her know that she's his, that she loves him and that they will have little white haired heads running around very very soon.

Okay, perhaps not that soon, in a few years.. four.. maybe six… yeah seems like a plan.

'.. tasted okay?' her soft voice alerts me. And I shift my glance from the pancake covered in sugar, to her.

I make a grunt, telling her I didn't hear. She rolls her eyes and does – from what I can see – some sort of mental face palming, without the hands. Only maka would be able to pull this off so wonderfully graceful.

'soul, this is the third time, do they taste okay? What's wrong, you seem out of it… are you high?'

I suddenly remember my goal for today, I was going to ask her to move back in. how should I ask? Intimidate never seemed to work well. Persuasion wasn't really my strong point.. so perhaps .. if it fails to ask normally, I might need to bribe her.

No big deal, the first day she was gone I'd locked myself up in her room and read all her books, encyclopedia's and what other useless papers she got in there. So I know exactly which one she has, and which one she doesn't. getting her a book, would be easy this time around.

I can start to feel myself smirk, not good. If she notices my plan, I would die a horrible death after a miserably short life. I clear my throat once and pretend to cough.

'they taste fine maka, dare I say they taste delicious.' I'm not lying, they are quite yummy if you get over the fact maka made them. It's like she is a whole different cook. The maka I knew – about 3 days ago – could only master one dish; lasagna.

After I complement her she gives me what seems the be the brightest smile ever, blinding me for a mere second before continuing to eat. This is so like her, being destructive while being cute. She is happily munching her third pancake – she eats fast – when I put my fork and knife down , catching her attention.

If it is possible in real life, there would be a gigantic question mark above her head, I have to keep myself in check to not suddenly start dying from laughter at seeing her facial expression.

'h-huh, what? Soul? Are they not good?.. you don't have to force yourself you know!' her sentence starts worried but quickly turns accusing. She pops her elbows hard on the table and readies herself to – probably – launch at me and skin me.. then boil my body for her evening soup.

'uhm listen, calm down. Pancakes are fine.' It comes out in a slur, not sounding very classy – or cool for that matter. 'why don't you come back?' my question takes down her by surprise.

'..come back? .. but I'm here..' she's pretending to not understand, but I can tell she knows exactly what I'm talking about, I sigh, 'Look you don't have to, if you don't want to.'

At this she only nods. A silence comes in the room and we're back to awkwardly eating pancakes.


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